


Off The Map

by Berty



Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_aprilfools, First Kiss, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-22
Updated: 2007-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berty/pseuds/Berty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is like the wind, baby!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off The Map

Strangely enough it was as Ray was peeing that it hit him – as usual a choice Kowalski time to have one of those life-defining moments, with his dick in his hand and a nagging fear of frostbite to something important.

"Well, fuck," he said softly to avoid Bat-ears coming over and offering to help him with tucking himself away and zipping up. Because he would – Fraser was a freak of Grand Master status and he'd been babying Ray ever since they'd left Frobisher's place. Not that Ray hadn't needed it – he'd sucked mightily at arctic exploring so far and Fraser was basically keeping him alive at the moment.

An unpleasant tingle reminded Ray it was time to shake and stow before he had to get Fraser to treat his dick for hypothermia.

And the reaction Ray got from this thought was disconcerting to say the least. "Well, fuck!" he said again, and went back to breaking down the camp. But he was quiet all day after that.

o~o~o~o

Ray passed Fraser his plate of brown and sat down beside him with his own. He took a mouthful. Hot – that was about the best of it.

It was dark already and the glow of the lamp was all they had now he'd turned off the stove.

"So Fraser, do you believe in fate?" Ray winced into his next forkful. Of all the fucking lame-assed things to say, this was his finest hour. But it had been on his mind, and sitting on a sled all day there wasn't much else to do but think.

Fraser, being a freak, didn't hesitate. "I think that ultimately a man must make his own choices, but yes, I do believe there is a certain element of fate in the directions laid out for his final decision. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you see, I always thought I kind of knew where I was going. You know? College. The academy. Marrying Stella. Buying a house. Having a couple of kids."

Fraser nodded at the ground, and then looked off into the darkness like all the answers lay out there somewhere.

"Even the divorce – I mean that sucked, but it was kind of on the list. What is it? One in three? One in two marriages that don't make it? I'm saying it was all part of the thing, really. See?"

"Sadly, yes I do."

"Kind of expected. Kind of pre-ordered," Ray explained.

"I think you mean pre-ordained, Ray."

"Right. So even my job, right? We get a lot of crazy stuff, but even that was par for the course – out there, but not totally beyond the edge of the whatnot."

Fraser, bless him, was nodding as if Ray was making perfect sense, putting his mess plate down and picking up his tea.

"Okay, so when you came it got a whole lot funkier."

Fraser swallowed quickly. "Funkier?"

"Yeah, weird stuff, sinking ships, voodoo, crashing though windows… weird stuff."

"All of which I have apologised for," Fraser said with a small, familiar smile and a gentle shove to his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, you're forgiven," Ray said distractedly, trying to keep the thread of his convoluted thoughts. "And now, I think I've kind of finally reached the end of my list. No more list. Gone. Doneski. I mean look at me!" Ray insisted, waving an arm out at the darkness and the weight of a hundred kilometres of ice in every direction. "Does this look like something that your average meat-packer's son from Chicago might do?"

"Well…"

"No! It does not, Fraser."

"Right you are."

"I am a free agent, Fraser. I am a loose cannon. I am off the map. There are no expectations or ticky boxes or statistics to define me anymore."

"How very freeing that must be," Fraser murmured into his mug, his eyes crinkling as he hid his grin.

"Yes it is! Yes it is! I'm like… like the _wind_ , man! Unpredictable. Changing. Unexpected," Ray asserted, punctuating with his fork.

"And what are you going to do with this new-found liberty?"

"That, my friend, is a mystery, and should stay that way. If I make decisions now, I'll be stuck with another list. I'm gonna live a while without."

"I see. And your position with the Chicago…?"

"Ah-ah-ahh! That sounds suspiciously like an expectation there, Benton," Ray said and took a decisive swig of coffee.

"Ray," Fraser said, turning toward his friend and reaching out to touch his face. "Can I…?"

Ray leapt, dropped his mug, curled his arm around Fraser's neck and pulled their mouths together in a clash of cold skin and hot tongues. He got his other arm under Fraser's parka and stroked his back through three layers of thermal gear – something that felt positively indecent after four weeks of wearing practically every garment he owned 24/7. It wasn't a tentative kiss. It was heat and now and give and mine. He gave of his best, wanting to make it memorable.

He finally gentled, kissing Fraser's cold nose and chin, then sitting back with shining eyes and his hat all bunched to one side.

Fraser blinked for a few seconds, then straightened up. "Well, that was… definitely unexpected," he said, sounding squeaky.

"In what way?" Ray asked, superficially calm.

"In that I was going to check you for signs of hypothermia. You seemed to be a little manic," Fraser replied.

"Oh. Ah. Oh, I… fuck," Ray swore, covering his mouth with his hand.

Fraser grinned and pulled at Ray's sleeve. "But now I see that it was just a side-effect of this new, map-less Ray Kowalski. Perhaps you'd care to explain this new theory of yours further?"

"Fraser, I…"

"Shall we say in my sleeping bag?" Fraser got up, taking the lantern with him and went inside their little tent.

"Well, fuck," said Ray.

"I heard that."

Fin


End file.
